


Meeting of the Minds

by LateMarch



Category: Hellboy (Movies), Hellboy - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Romance, SHIELD, badass agents are badass, bprd, help me, i'm torn between a phil coulson story and a steve rogers story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-11
Updated: 2013-10-18
Packaged: 2017-12-26 07:08:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/963043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LateMarch/pseuds/LateMarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For decades, it seems that the B.P.R.D. and S.H.I.E.L.D. have somehow... missed each other. But that won't last for long now -- at least not with fae princes to tame and superheroes assembling and the entirety of New York City going to hell in a hand basket. It's a good thing BPRD Junior Agent Ruth Aaronson has just been made an inter-departmental liaison then. </p><p>And if that means she's got to spend a lot of time around the blindingly handsome Star Spangled Man With a Plan and the Avengers' own Spy in Black, well then, so be it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Iron Man Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! Hoping you all like my first attempt at Avengers-fic -- I've been lurking around here, reading everything I can get my hands on for awhile, just never wrote anything.
> 
> Anyway, the first few chapters will be kind of short and will mostly take us up through the current movies. I'm starting with Iron Man 1 mostly because it was easier for me to envision the characters meeting in that scenario and also a (teensy little bit) that I forgot The Incredible Hulk, so I'm sorry for that! Anyway, bear with me - lots of Agent Coulson in the beginning, not so much anyone else. I originally intended for this to be an OFC/Steve fic, but now I'm kind of torn, so please help me decide -- Phil or Steve? Keep in mind that Steve will enter a little bit later!
> 
> Thanks and enjoy!

It was strange to think, but for decades, the B.P.R.D. and S.H.I.E.L.D. had somehow… missed each other. Perhaps it had something to do with the BPRD’s tendency towards garbage trucks, or SHIELD’s penchant for spies whose secrets had secrets of their own, but whatever the explanation for all those years of willful ignorance, they were about to come to an abrupt end right outside of Tony Stark’s press conference.

This was the third or fourth time that Ruth Aaronson, Agent for the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense, had run into the stern looking government SHIELD agent. She passed herself off as an anonymous and zealous journalist to Mr. Black Sunglasses the first few times, but she had a feeling that act wasn’t going to fly for much longer. He hadn’t yet acknowledged the fact that she was hovering just around a corner, like a nervous bee, but it was clear that he was only allowing her some dignity.

Status as a junior agent be damned, Ruth threw back her shoulders, straightened her blazer, and marched over to the suit (which was just as black as the sunglasses); she didn’t even fumble when she pulled her BPRD law bade and key card out. They dangled from a lanyard a bit awkwardly, but she flung them in his face anyway because what could you do, right? “Agent Ruth Aaronson, BPRD. I’m going to have to ask you to come with me, sir.”

Whatever he had been expecting, this certainly wasn’t it. This wasn’t it at all. The agent indulged in a moment of surprise, lowering his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to look at her before retreating into implacability again. “That will not be happening. I have an appointment with Mr. Stark. Where did you say you were from again?”

“The BPRD.” As Ruth informed him in as agent-like a manner as possible, his cell phone came out and a slew of texting obviously went on. “Agent Ruth Aaronson, Inter-Bureau Liaison Officer.”

When he didn’t immediately offer up a similar introduction, she asked, “And you are?”

He didn’t even look up from his texting. “Coulson. Agent.”

“Agent’s not your first name, is it?” The (incredulous) question slipped out before she could stop it, and Ruth had to steal herself against his agent-ish amusement and the red blush of embarrassment climbing up her face.

“No.”

They were beginning to draw attention from the surrounding members of the press, all hoping for a piece of Tony Stark, or even Pepper Potts, after the press conference. “Coulson. Agent. Agent Coulson, I have some matters to discuss with you on behalf of my superiors at the BPRD – we’d like to offer help, a kind of partnership, if you will. If you could please come with me –“

“Make an appointment please.” Was all the other agent said, doing a bang up job of imitating dry wall, and slipped between the doors and into the press conference, presumably to find his prey.

Manning was not going to be happy about this.

“So much for inter-agency relations.” Ruth mumbled, ripping up the business car in her hand and walking away.

Behind her retreating back, a reporter frowned and bent down to pick up the pieces. “Ruth Aaronson, Professional Bee Keeper At Large.” He read under his breath, and then pocketed the stubs for a thorough examination later. Call him crazy, but that had not sounded like a normal conversation for a Bee Keeper At Large.

Jackpot.


	2. The 2nd Iron Man Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruth is... well, ruthless when it comes to shoving her business card in Agent Coulson's pocket outside of the office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lest I become one of those people who starts something and never finishes it, an update! Huzzah!
> 
> Also, you know guys, I totally had a bad dream the other night in which I received a review for this story, and the person said, and I quote, "I hated all the interaction you put in this. I'm only here because I like SHIELD and BPRD." What a rotten dream! Thanks for being so nice so far guys!

Ruth never expected to see Agent Coulson again, truly. After all, SHIELD was the veritable Grand Dame of the whole hiding in dark corners thing. She definitely did not expect to see him at Starbucks. But at Starbucks he was, getting out of a little red Corvette and stalking to the beverage empire storefront as if there was a major bee in this bonnet. 

So it was a good thing that BPRD’s inside joke for its agents was calling them ‘bee keepers.’ “Smoke that shit.” Manning told her at last year’s Christmas party, drunk on eggnog and Hellboy’s beer. (She suspected that he had also been playing a game of Hide The Flask with Abe.) “I mean, really, smoke that shit out and don’t get stung.”

Ruth herself was there on her day off, one of the super-cliché masses who lounged about in the coffee shops wearing yoga pants and working on their computers. Hardly attire suited for dealing with major governmental bureaucracies. But much as Ruth would have liked to ignore the appearance of a SHIELD agent in her immediate vicinity, Manning would demote her even further if she missed the opportunity.

And she desperately needed the work-karma after unsuccessfully keeping the new agencies from discovering Hellboy’s existence during the whole forest spirit debacle. Manning had her on Cat Duty, for Pete’s sake.

There was a coffee stain on her shirt, but without a good alternative (she was not walking around shirtless), it would have to do. Computer security key in hand, Ruth resigned herself to an inevitable encounter. “I wouldn’t expect to see a Level 7 Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division agent in Starbucks.” She said casually, slipping into line behind him.

“Nor would I expect to see a Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense agent in a Whale Species of the World shirt that’s covered in cat hair. You’ve been doing your research.” Coulson reached out and plucked a hair from her shoulder. “Tabby.”

Ruth felt affronted, loyal employee that she was, at the slight to her department’s knowledge-gathering ability. “We’ve known who you are for some time, it’s only the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division that’s been in the dark.”

Coulson casually handed his order to the barista written on a slip of paper and a Starbucks gold card. “Is that so?” He said it in a tone that Ruth had been trying to perfect for years. That elusive, “I’m Saying You’re Wrong Even Though I’m Not Really Saying You’re Wrong” tone of voice that, true to form, always made her feel like she was wrong. “And you can call us SHIELD.”

“Have you thought about what I mentioned earlier? About a partnership?”

“This is for Stark. I’m on a babysitting mission.” Coulson said in answer to her earlier question as they moved away from the ordering counter. “And in reference to your inquiry, we have decided that it may be wise to form a high-level fact-finding committee on the efficiency of a joint venture before attempting any inter-office partnerships.”

Well that was grade-A government bullshit.

As much as it was technically an answer, it was truthfully a total brush off. Ruth grimaced at the unapologetic SHIELD agent, who was suddenly speaking into an expensive looking Stark phone, too quietly for her to hear in the din of the coffee shop. He’s hardly batted an eyelash when writing her off, and the errant thought that maybe this was how he picked up women entered her mind. ‘An inter-personal relationship for the purpose of mutual sexual satisfaction would be for the benefit of both of our…’

“If that’s all…” He trailed off to the interruption of her inappropriate thoughts, nodding thanks to the barista who handed him his order and weaving through the gathered crowd of caffeine addicts.

Peeved, but not at all put off, she wondered about the wisdom of her actions as she rushed around to her little corner table and pulled a business card out of her purse. It probably would have been better to give him Manning’s information, but time was of the essence, as it were, and Ruth was feeling more than a little Lone Ranger on this. "Watch my stuff?" She asked her news-surfing table-neighbor without waiting for an answer.

“Wait!” She called out, rushing outside and trying to hide how out of shape she felt simultaneously. Coulson was carefully balancing his cardboard cup holders in the passenger seat of his Corvette, but readily took her business card when she held it out to him. “Just think about it.”

Slight amusement, the first emotion she’d really seen on his face, flickered at the corner of his mouth. “Ms. Aaronson-“

“Agent Aaronson.”

“Agent Aaronson,” Coulson began again, slipping the card into his suit pocket. “Frankly, we have our hands full just between Tony Stark and the developing situation in New Mexico. There’s no room on our plate as it is.”

Narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms directly over her chest and the Orca whale, Ruth leaned against his car asked wryly, before actually thinking things through, “Don’t you think our demon, pyrokinetic, aquatic empathy, and ectoplasmic psychic would at least make for some interesting coffee runs though?”

Oops.

Those weren’t cats scheduled for out of the bag release.

And the way Agent Coulson’s eyebrows rose up from behind the rims of his sunglasses affirmed just how much she’d inadvertently revealed. Still, he climbed into his car smoothly, closing the door just as a Mazda pulled in next to him. “Don’t touch Lola.”

Ruth barely had time to move before he pulled out of the spot and drove off. “I’m never gonna get neverending Cat Duty for this, aren’t I?” 

The woman who climbed out of the Mazda was statuesque, beautiful, with deep red hair and an unflinching attitude. She flicked a disinterested glance at Ruth’s shabby-chic and walked into the coffee shop without locking her car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I the only one who imagines Manning as that one drunk at every Christmas party, the one who says things they'd never say during normal work hours and always faceplants the punch bowl? I mean, he's gotta let that tension out sometime...
> 
> Anyway, on with the story! Think of these first couple of chapters that go through Iron Man/Iron Man 2/Thor/Captain America as an extended prologue, or a Part One, so to speak. Still trying to decide if this will be a Phil story or a Steve story... I do love them both!
> 
> Appearances by the rest of the MCU cast to come about shortly! Enjoy the story and review!


	3. The Joint Thor Incident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent Coulson and Agent Aaronson mutually decide that it's better to cooperate than raise a fuss in the face of huge hammers in New Mexico and de-powered Norse gods. Also, Hellboy wants pizza.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third chapter for the win! This actually got out a little early because I ended up writing it for a writing challenge that I host every October over on LiveJournal. So I'll just take a moment to pimp this out: It's called the October Writing Challenge, we're in our fourth year, we're a great group of super supportive writers, and any fandom is welcome!
> 
> October Writing Challenge: http://octoberwriting.livejournal.com/  
> FAQ: http://octoberwriting.livejournal.com/720.html  
> Sign-Up Post: http://octoberwriting.livejournal.com/88556.html

It was the hammer that really broke the camel’s back, so to speak. Things were tense between agencies run by two wildly different characters, but it was the hammer’s appearance that changed everything.

“You were supposed to keep us in the loop.” Ruth was vainly resisting the urge to tap her foot impatiently on the floor and cross her arms over her chest, as she was keenly under the assumption that Agent Coulson would be less than appreciative of her impression of an irritated White Rabbit. The only thing SHIELD had not yet done to stymie official relations was make her late for any of her very important dates.

It had been a close call though.

Still, Ruth indulged in a little bit of vague, back and forth hand gesturing. “That’s how these inter-office partnerships work, you know?”

It was true, SHIELD and the BPRD had technically formed an alliance, and committed to working together on the steadily increasing number of paranormal and extraterrestrial incidents occurring around the country. But so far, neither government agency had done much more than grant grudging Discovery rights and throw agency-wide temper tantrums, Men In Black style.  
“I’m aware of that.” Agent Coulson, Phil, she’d learned was his name but would never call him that, was staring inscrutably down at the desperately blonde, desperately muscled, desperately upset man pulling on the paranormal hammer lodged in the earth. Below them, the man cried out in what Ruth might, in her more poetic moments, call anguish.

She couldn’t fault the man for trying to pull on the hammer – it was a beautiful thing, after all. A slight, golden hue colored the weapon, like dye in water, that was evident even in the pouring rain, and the runes carved into it shimmered, probably gilded with some precious metal.

“And you didn’t think this beefcake with a hammer fetish coming through an Einstein-Rosen Bridge was interesting enough for us, is that it?” Okay, so maybe the cold and the rain were getting to her a little bit, a lot really, even through her obnoxiously yellow rain slicker.

Coulson flinched when she blew her nose painfully into a tissue and sniffed as she shuffled closer to the ledge, but he did look grudgingly impressed that she knew what an Einstein-Rosen bridge was. “It’s just a hammer.”

Ruth glanced at him sharply, because it was obviously anything but a simple hammer. “Yes, and I’m a receptionist with a badge. What is it really?” Couldn’t he see the glints of magic that were fluttering around the thing like confetti? 

Maybe her time with the BPRD had made her more sensitive to that sort of thing? The rationalization made some sense, but stuck in her throat with a wrongness that she just couldn’t shake.

“Unfortunately, nothing will remove it from the ground.” The agent continued on, apparently oblivious to her uncertainty, and either couldn’t or wouldn’t tell her what it was. “And we are detecting some radiation, probably Gamma – perhaps linked to Banner? Stark? There’s no telling at this point.”

He seemed to be testing her with the semi-question, as if trying to gauge how committed the BPRD was to a knowledge sharing partnership, how committed she was to a mutual exposition of government secrets. Ruth murmured something completely nonsensical and hoped that he couldn’t make the words out through the rain.

Coulson apparently took this as if she or her department knew something, had an edge over SHIELD in this matter, which honestly was probably a good thing. He let out an official SHIELD-issue sigh of semi-concession. “Your people are good with this sort of thing?”

Ruth turned away from the painful sight of the blonde man being dragged away by agents. Her eyes ached some, as if something or someone was down there with the hammer was being shielded magically from sight – Manning said it was a sign that she was magic-sensitive, if not downright magical, which was a good thing for a primarily administrative agent.

And he was correct, the BPRD was good with magical artifacts – their agenda consisted almost entirely of dealing with such things. Hellboy, Abe, and Nuada were perfect examples of such. Okay, so they weren’t the neatest of problem-solvers, but as long as the problem was solved, did anyone really care? Well, maybe Manning did, but no one else really.

“They know things.” She admitted carefully, blinking rain from her eyes. Her ringtone could just be heard over the thunder of rain on their plastic shelter, and she took it out and flipped it open to see Big Red himself on the Caller ID.

“Hey Cat Lady.” Was Hellboy’s greeting as she answered the phone. “Got an ETA on dinner yet?”

Ruth frowned and shot an apologetic look at Agent Coulson. “What do you mean ETA on dinner? I’m not out getting it.”

She heard Liz saying something in the background, and the braying of too many cats in one room, but couldn’t make out what was going on. “Aren’t you… you know, out getting pizza from Antonio’s?”

Turning away from Agent Coulson, Ruth did not want him to hear what was going on. This was just embarrassing, if Hellboy didn’t even know where his team was. It either reflected badly on the team for not communicating, or it reflected badly on Manning for taking him on – but either way, it reflected badly. “HB, I’ve been in New Mexico for two days. You didn’t notice that I was gone?”

There was an awkward silence on the other end of the phone. “So… do you know who’s getting dinner then?”

Liz was a saint for living with the demon on a full-time basis, and there was no room for argument on that point. “Nope, I’m kind of busy here HB. You know, with strangely muscled homeless men and hammers and stubborn government agencies.”

She could hear how that wet his appetite for action as he asked if she needed the team to come out.

Ruth glanced at Coulson, who appeared to be listening in anyway, and raised an eyebrow in question. “No, you guys stay there and start doing research on powerful hammers. Well, Abe start doing research. Ask him for me, will ya?” She said when the other agent shook his head.

Signing off in the affirmative, Hellboy called for his pizza, and Ruth prayed for that person’s survival – Big Red was not the most patient agent in the world, after all.

“Handful.” Was Agent Coulson’s only comment. But there was a mutuality and an appreciation in his voice, as if to say, “Been there, done that.”

Then again, this was her third straight day with three hours of sleep or less, and her second trying to persuade/force/connive her way into the makeshift SHIELD fortress. Maybe she was imagining things. “Well, to sum up, yes, we are good with this sort of thing. And we have the best researchers in the world.”

Coulson must have bit his tongue on that one, but he silently held out his hand anyway. Officially, the BPRD-SHIELD joint office relations had begun a while ago, but it was clear that the BPRD-SHIELD partnership was only just beginning.

Which would turn out to be a very good thing, shortly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you have it... I'm also leaning towards this being a Phil/OC story. I can always dedicate some time and lovin' to Steve later!
> 
> As usual, let me know what you think!


	4. The Captain America Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruth fails miserably at both interviewing Captain America and at eliciting a reaction from Coulson with her boobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have definitely decided to make this a Coulson/OC story -- I ended up having two different main plots vying for attention in the same story, one for Coulson and one for Steve, so I cut the Steve one out and that will hopefully have it's own story sometime in the future. But for now, yay, Coulson!

“How long has he been awake?”

Ruth was being escorted by the now familiar Agent Coulson and the intimidating Director Fury through a maze of hallways in the SHIELD headquarters. Her head still throbbed from where she’d hit it on the roof of her car in her hurry to get into the HQ as fast as possible. Calls like this didn’t just come every day, after all.

Director Fury glanced at her out of the corner of one eye, his only eye, she reminded herself, and narrowed it a bit. Ruth had a feeling that Coulson and Agent Hill, her newest SHIELD acquaintance, had done much to smooth over Fury’s feelings about the partnership and foster cooperation. “Three hours. The Captain ran out into the street, we had to bring him back in. Doesn’t appear to understand what’s going on yet.”

“Well, isn’t that perfectly understandable?” Ruth imagined she too would have had a hard time with it all if she found herself in a nightmare like this, especially if there were grumpy government agents like the ones accompanying her there. “Don’t look at me like that. I’ve had no coffee, so unless you provide me with some, this is the way I’m going to stay.”  
Neither agent answered her, and as they reached a guarded, solid steel door, Ruth was left to fortify herself and hope for the best.

Which was exactly what she appeared to have found. At the sound of the door opening, a tall, blonde man who looked like he could probably bench press a car if he had to swiveled to meet them. He was leaning forward, braced against a plain metal table with his arms crossed protectively over his chest – and although his face appeared honest, it was guarded and unsure. Sitting across from him was Agent Hill, who quietly excused herself and passed by Ruth to leave.

The room was bare and quite unwelcoming, which unnerved her somewhat. Government agent she may have been, but the BPRD was a far cry from SHIELD, and Ruth was certain that her agency had no rooms like this stashed away. Or at least she hoped that they didn’t. “What is this, Monty Python and the Horrible Interrogative Cell?” She muttered into her shoulder while setting her bag, papers, and badge on a metal table.

As well as the table, there were two chairs that at least shifted the general color scheme of the room away from beige somewhat with their solid green olive drab paint, and a paper cup of coffee sitting next to the Captain on the table. The one light in the room flickered unsteadily, but at least the Captain’s brilliant blonde locks were bright enough to light the dark corners.  
“What was that?” He asked her, leaning away from the table and giving her room to organize her things.

“Nothing.” Ruth made a show of spreading her papers out, covering nearly the entire table with things meant to look governmental and impressive, things that said stuff like ‘Official Account of Official Federal Stuff’ and ‘Federal Expenditure Report of This and That.’ After all, you never knew when you might need some serious looking papers to wave around.

Making sure to place documents directly in front of the Captain, Ruth leaned forward just a bit too far on purpose, just to see what would happen. Not to brag or anything, but her breasts had been known to do some impressive things from time to time, and it wasn’t every day that she got a chance to try them out on a de-frosted 1940’s antique. The blush that stuck to his cheeks tighter than a dress on a pop star was just absolutely adorable, and upon catching sight of the view down her shirt, his eyes flew upward to connect solidly with hers.

“You really are from the 40s.” Ruth commented as he swallowed. Perhaps that was a little mean of her, but who didn’t have a little Regina George in them?

“You really aren’t a SHIELD agent.” The Captain said abruptly, not meanly per se, but pointedly. The blush was still fading but he was all business now.

Crouched halfway into her seat, Ruth froze and narrowed her eyes. Neither Coulson nor Fury said anything to anyone unless they absolutely had to, so they didn’t tell him. And Agent Hill was too tough of a cookie for him to have pulled it out of her. So either he was bullshitting her, or he was a mind reader.

Instead of standing back up to her full height, she lowered her elbows to the table and propped herself up on it without sitting down. Putting her chin in her hands, she asked, “And how do you know that?”

“Your posture, your haircut, your bag, your papers,” The Captain said, reciting a laundry list of giveaways, “And the badge you put on the table, ma’am.”

Ruth blinked. Okay, so it was neither of those options – he was just smarter than she was. “If you’re so smart, do you know what agency I’m from?” She sat down with a thump, feeling a bit petty.

“The BPRD, ma’am.”

“And how do you know that, Captain?” Her head bobbed side to side a little bit as she said it, but mostly she was able to control the attitude.

He tilted his head to one side. “Please call me Steve, ma’m. It was the BPRD badge you put on the table.”

Ruth glanced at the offending badge, which was more meant to intimidate rather than inform, and swiped it into her purse before it could do anymore damage. “Yes, I’m from the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense, have you ever heard of us before, Steve?”

He shook his head sharply in the negative.

“Yes, well, uh good. We handle… situations as they come up with our team, a team full of very interesting individuals that you may or may not get to meet in the future.” Perhaps it was the brisk tone of voice that had come out of nowhere, but Ruth was feeling pretty optimistic about the interview. 

“But right now, I myself actually work for both the BPRD and SHIELD, I’m Agent Ruth Aaronson, the inter-office liaison officer and I’m here to question you on behalf of the Bureau. Now please,” She said, smiling and holding up a hand, “Don’t be intimidated by these highly technical and important questions I am about to ask you.”

It took her a minute to dig a pen and a notebook out of her purse, and then Steve’s coffee was accidentally spilled and that had to be cleaned up, but once that was settled and the rest of her stuff was stowed, the soldier and the agent faced each other squarely. “Steve,” She started, and he nodded in intense concentration. “How do you feel right now?”

“Uh…” This time Steve was the one who was a little surprised, and he scratched the back of his head. “I feel out of place, mostly.”

He watched her a bit suspiciously as she scratched notes out on her pad. “And do you feel any physical effects, like weakness, loss of muscle mass, migraines, any degradation to the serum effects?”

Steve checked himself over mentally for a bit, and Ruth just checked him out. “No.”

“And how does it feel to be an icy time traveler who came to us from out of the blue? You’re not a doctor, are you?”

Steve looked a bit startled, and Ruth supposed she should maybe take a little pity on the poor man. “No, ma’am, no I’m not. I just feel…” He paused for a moment, writing and re-writing words in his head and clearly frustrated, eventually gave up and shook his head. “What are you asking me ma’am? Specifically.”

“Well, I mean, isn’t it like you’re one of those people who pay to be frozen after death until a cure is found? Like Walt Disney… He did that, didn’t he? Or maybe just his head? I’m not sure, but it’s kind of like that, right?” Ruth felt like a bumbling idiot in front of the ridiculously tall, ridiculously handsome captain, and the words came out before she could force her mouth closed and stop them.

It was like a stone wall had dropped over Captain Rogers’ face as he retreated into himself and shut off almost completely. “No, it isn’t like that at all. I would never have chosen this.”  
There was a more than awkward silence as Ruth could think of nothing to say in response to that. No way to say she was sorry, that she was just a fool around attractive men. That they didn’t usually let her around the important people and shouldn’t have given her this job. That she was used to giant red demons who’d rather bite her head off in retaliation than retreat inside themselves. That she lied about being able to speak Faroese on her job application.

Except then she realized that she had said all those things out loud in a hot rush that left her cheeks redder than the stripes on his uniform and both of them realizing uncomfortably that Agent Coulson was in the now open doorway.

“Your interview time is over.” And when an agent said something the way Agent Coulson said that, there was no room for argument.

Captain Rogers nodded to her as he left, stiffly, in a way that implicitly stated he was doing so out of respect for military code and not for her pleasure. And Ruth was rather thinking that she no longer had his permission to call him Steve.

Rubbing her forehead, Ruth squinted up at the other agent. “How do you think it went?”

Coulson had those damned black sunglasses on that hid his eyes entirely and made it absolutely impossible to determine what he was thinking. “Horrible.”

“Hey! It wasn’t…” She protested, weakly, before picking her bag up from the floor. “You’re right. Horrible.”

He waited with his arms crossed over his chest for her to gather all of her less-than-impressive papers and the notebook that hardly had two lines in it. And though Coulson didn’t say anything at all about the Ruth-caused catastrophe of an interview that had just occurred, his looming, moody presence in the doorway was maybe more than just an indication that he was displeased. Some of her papers had been caught in the coffee spill, and a whiff of caffeine errantly reminded Ruth of their meeting in the coffee shop. ‘An inter-personal relationship for the purpose of mutual sexual satisfaction…’

A snort of amusement escaped at the ridiculous, but still plausible imagining of Coulson picking a woman up in a bar.

“Something funny?” The man in question asked dryly.

“No, no.” She said, reaching to scoop up the last of the forms. And then on a whim, just to maybe perk herself up a little, Ruth bent forward to gather up the papers just as she had to spread them around, modestly working her cleavage just one more time. Call it a purely scientific experiment.

A glance up at Coulson from underneath her eyelashes, and all she saw was how his mouth tightened into a disapproving line and his forehead creased in a frown. “Come with me please.” If possible, his tone even more brusque, clearly not happy with her.

Well, there went her self-esteem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are just some times when you have to let the ladies out, if you know what I mean. Maybe poor Ruth will have more luck next time.

**Author's Note:**

> So again, if you wouldn't mind taking a moment to let me know who you'd prefer to be the main guy here, I'd appreciate it. Fair warning, I'll probably ask every chapter as the story first grows and progresses.
> 
> See you next chapter!


End file.
